


Intersection at Prodigy and Princess

by JasnNCarly



Series: Michael and Steffy (Crossover series) [1]
Category: General Hospital, The Bold and the Beautiful
Genre: F/M, crossover series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-04
Updated: 2010-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasnNCarly/pseuds/JasnNCarly
Summary: Young and fresh out of prison, Michael has no direction until he comes up against a beautiful force known as Steffy Forrester.





	1. Prologue

  
**Prologue**  
  
Michael could mentally recite all the bitching he was sure he had coming, late for curfew among a dozen worrying minds. However, he needed to breathe – needed to feel irresponsible for just two more minutes before he returned to the reality of parole and Pentonville.  
  
If he had made the right step, made a logic step, he would have missed her that night.  
  
Head hung low; he heard only low sniffles and saw only her light brown tresses shielding any expression she may have held.  
  
Michael debated, still in his sneakers, and tried to resist the urge – no need to interject himself into yet another person’s mess.   
  
Releasing a heavy sigh, the young woman finally lifted her head and looked out at the water – tears running an endless stream from her breathtaking blue eyes.  
  
 _Shit._  
  
Michael found himself braving an approach, despite every gut instinct to run, and cleared his throat once he was near, “…are you okay?”  
  
Her eyes struck his, fearless and daring, “What do you think?”  
  
 _Run, run!_  
  
Shoving his hands nervously into his pockets, he continued to ignore internal warnings, “Is there anything I can do…to help you out?”  
  
“Look, buddy, if this has anything to do with something in your pants dying to meet me, you’re as good as drowned in that water behind you, got me?”  
  
“It’s nothing like that.”  
  
“Really?” She softened her expression, crossing her arms across her chest, “What else would make you stop and help some stranger? From what I hear, this is a city where everyone just takes cover in hopes they don’t get shot.”  
  
“Nice to see PC’s known for its tourist appeal.” Michael’s humor fell on deaf ears as she sat on the bench once again, searching for other company they may have. He took a cautious seat beside her, lifting his hands in surrender when her eyes darted towards him, “You’re obviously new to town. Or you’d know where to lay low – it isn’t on the docks.”  
  
“What makes you think I want to be hidden?” Wiping her cheeks dry, suddenly aware that her makeup no longer matched her perfectly maintained manicure, she shrugged her slender shoulders, “I might want to be right out in the open, ready for someone to track me down.”  
  
“Track you down for what?”  
  
“Are you a cop or something?”  
  
“No. Definitely not.”  
  
“Then what’s with the interrogation?”  
  
Without a flinch, Michael rounded his shoulders, “Just curious.”  
  
“Fine, if you must continue to be nosey, I’ll just lay it all out for you.” She plastered a fake smile onto her plump lips, “I’m the daughter to one of the most powerful, clueless men in this world. Rather than back his kid, he’d rather run with trash who has rubbed his face in her mistakes more than once. So I sold my shares of the family company to his worst enemy, giving that man control of the business, and took my very hefty amount of money to get the hell out of town.”  
  
“You ended up in Port Charles?”  
  
“It’s—it’s got a lot to do with the business my family is in. I saw that an important somebody, Kate Howard, lived here. Not that you have any clue what I’m talking about.”  
  
Leaning forward, he sat his elbows on his knees, “Sure, I do. My cousin works for her.” He let out a soft laugh, adding, “My dad almost married her.”  
  
She perked up, shifting her body language and facing him, “Are you serious?”  
  
Michael offered a small nod, pleased with the change, “I might even be able to drop in a good word with her people…if I knew your name.”  
  
“Of course.” She bounced her head from side to side, unsure if she should so willingly hand over her information, “My name’s Stephanie Forrester, but everyone calls me Steffy.”  
  
“Steffy?”  
  
“I don’t need any cracks about my name right now, all right?” Standing tall in black heels, her body relaxed at the sight of his eyes staring up at her, “Just get me back to the Metro Court, and we can figure out how you’re going to help me in the future.”  
  
Her confidence and domineering nature amused him, “What makes you think I’m going to help you?”  
  
“Is that really a question? For the same reason you stopped to have a whole conversation with a stranger.” Taking his arm, she helped him to his feet and hugged his arm to her chest before batting her long lashes playfully, “You wouldn’t leave a girl defenseless in this city, would you?”  
  
“Oddly, I think you’d be fine.”  
  
“But you wouldn’t leave me, would you—“ She frowned, dropping his arm momentarily, “what is your name?”  
  
He eyeballed her, wondering if this first impression warranted his name or his help. Once some ounce of insecurity flashed in her blue eyes – slightly lightening their shade – he offered his arm to her once more, “…Michael.”


	2. U-Turn

**U-Turn**  
  
_I’ve got 2 c u. Plz?_  
  
Michael tried to ignore the text, read it at least fifty times before making the long journey towards Crimson headquarters.   
  
Steffy had been in town for a little over two months. Her work kept her held up in her office, working Kate’s hours and then some – determined to earn her last name and the legacy it licensed her to. However, it left her social life in the “much to be desired” category.  
  
He rather enjoyed that, thankful for the distance from the undeniable beauty. Their conversations were limited to text messages and casual run-ins.   
  
Apparently, Steffy now felt comfortable enough to request visits from him, causing him to be intrigued and terrified all at once.   
  
_Just keep it together long enough to tell her to back off, focus on work or something…_  
  
Watching the floors light up, painfully slow, he tried to conjure a nicer excuse for a brief visit with her.  
  
_Things are chaotic right now. My new place, the new job, a little of everything._  
  
That was better, but he was positive nothing would be acceptable as Steffy had a tough time accepting anything but a “yes” to any request she made.  
  
Michael had an even harder time denying her.  
  
The doors slid open, revealing her confident grin and the raise of her arched brow, “Thinking about standing me up, Blondie?”  
  
“Funny.” Stepping of the elevator, he immediately searched for some kind of security blanket, “Where is everybody?”  
  
“Not on my floor, up Kate’s ass, who cares?” Steffy extended an open hand to him, fully expectant of him, and smiled only when he took it, “What do you think? I’ve finally got everything exactly the way on want, ready to cause the kind of damage my family could be proud of.”   
  
Leading him around to floor, she revealed an office much larger than necessary – all prepped for a staff that had yet to exist.  
  
“Once I’ve got this line up and running, Kate will be begging me to remain an ally and not some pet project.”  
  
“And you’re going to work with her, right?”  
  
“I don’t know. The whole giving me limited funds, making me use a lot of my own money thing – kind of a deal breaker.”   
  
As she released his hand, admiring her space, Michael let a genuine smile emerge. It felt nice to be wanted, to have an opinion someone respected, to have a beautiful woman ask to have you around. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he gave a nod of approval, “Looks about right.”  
  
“As if I should be doubted?”   
  
Her eyes gave her away despite the cockiness of her words. They thanked him for his acknowledgment and took pride in his simple remark.  
  
“Besides showing off, I did have another reason for asking you here, Michael.”  
  
The soft tone of her voice, the hint of playfulness in her blue gaze, and the click of her approaching heels nearly sent him jumping out a window – yet he remained still.  
  
“If it wasn’t for you, if you hadn’t been such a good friend to someone who doesn’t deserve it, I don’t see how all of this could’ve been possible.”  
  
“I didn’t do anything, Steffy.”  
  
“Yes, you did. You introduced me to Kate. Made sure I didn’t make things worse before they could get better. You never asked for anything from me.” Her eyes bounced from his to the floor, her shine losing a little sparkle, “Sometimes people do a lot for you by doing very little.”   
  
“Fine.” He waited for her eyes before giving a sarcastic smirk, “You’re welcome.”  
  
Her excitement return, re-lit the energy of her stare, as she smacked his shoulder, “Jerk.”  
  
Though he enjoyed her attention, he was positive half of her interest in him had to do with the fact that he pretended to have none in her. Michael took a seat at a nearby desk, beginning to curiously inspect it, “So why am I here?”  
  
“Well…I want to show my appreciation.” Before he could stop her, she stopped him with the wave of her hands, “Nothing drastic, okay? Just—let me take you to dinner. Thank you for being so great to the bratty new girl.”  
  
A nervous breath left his mouth, “Steffy…”  
  
“There’s just one little catch.”  
  
His eyes immediately struck hers, all amusement now vacant from his gaze, “What else could you possibly want?”  
  
“I’m so glad you asked.” She shuffled over to the opposite desk, grabbing a large portfolio and laying it the desk, “I need a guy’s opinion on some of these new designs.”  
  
“I don’t know anything about this. Why would I—“  
  
“Damn it, there’s a design missing.” She mumbled after a quick flip through the pages, slamming it shut, and walked towards her office, “I’ll go grab it.”  
  
“Wait a second, I don’t want anything to do with this.”  
  
She was already in her office, yelling out at him, “The quicker you just look at it, the quicker we get out of here.”  
  
_Who said I was even going to dinner with you?_  Michael drew in an angered inhalation, pulling the portfolio towards himself, and flipped it open.   
  
The moment he had, he regretted it.  
  
Every design was obviously geared towards the male population, each item exactly what you would want to see on a woman. However, he could not help but look away, getting up from the chair quickly.  
  
Before he could make a bolt for the door, she emerged from her office with a smoky desire stirring in her blue eyes.  
  
Michael swallowed hard, his instincts making a careful outline of her figure as she emerged in baby blue lingerie with only her black high heels remaining from her outfit before.   
  
Placing her hands on her hips, she tilted her head slightly to hold his gaze, “What do you think?”  
  
His whole being was in overload, mindful of one thing and haunted by another, “I have to go.”  
  
Deflated, her hands dropped to her side, “What? Why?”  
  
“I just gotta get out of here.” Michael pushed the button hard, repeatedly, and tried to will it quickly to his escape.  _Come on._  
  
She came rushing after him, her shoes giving her away before her words, “Michael, what is it? Is something wrong? Did something happen?”  
  
“No, I just have to go.” Again, he hit the elevator button.   
  
“Wait a minute, okay? I don’t—I don’t get what’s happening here.” Steffy stepped in front of him, forcing their eyes to lock, “Did I do something wrong?”  
  
“No.” Michael wanted to tell her everything, but he felt it was safer locked away. This left him to offer only, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”  
  
“Okay…?” Crossing her arms, she urged, “An explanation would be nice.”  
  
“I can’t talk about it, all right? It’s better if you don’t know.”  
  
“You don’t get to decide that for me!”  
  
Before he could go on, the elevator doors opened.   
  
One of Michael’s bodyguards was awaiting his company, gaining an eyeful of the young mogul, and found it hard to hide his appreciation of her form.  
  
Steffy refused to be moved, keeping her eyes on Michael, even as he failed to mask his emotions.  
  
He looked over her shoulder, giving his guard a darkened glare, “I’ll be down in a minute.” Extending his hand, Michael made one last order, “Give me your jacket.”  
  
The guard did as told, hitting the button to close the doors, and hung his head.  
  
Draping the cloth over Steffy’s shoulders, he continued when they were alone, “It was a mistake for me to come here. It won’t happen again.”  
  
She was unable to his the mist in her eyes, yanking the jacket off her body, “You’re damn right it won’t.”  
  
His past would not allow him to stop her as she stomped back into her office, slamming the door shut. Instead, he picked up the jacket from the ground and awaited the elevator’s return.


	3. Reverse

**Reverse**  
  
_I’m sorry. Can we talk? Can we meet? Do you plan on hating me forever?_  
  
Each message he typed, he deleted. Over and over again. Each time, he convinced himself it was better to maintain his distance.   
  
She had every right to hate him; he humiliated her. Never mind his intention, Michael was well aware of what he had done. The disappointment in her wounded eyes poisoned him, making it impossible not to see them every time he thought of her.   
  
Pulling his phone from his coat pocket, he began to create a message to her – yet failed to get any words which erased the awkwardness of the situation.  
  
Nothing was suave; nothing seemed to place the blame squarely on his shoulders.  
  
Frustrated, Michael snapped the phone shut and pitched it into the water.   
  
_It’s never going to be the same._  
  
Turning around, he was ready to sulk in his tiny apartment all alone; however, he immediately ran into a pair of familiar heels.   
  
Blazing blue eyes struck green, determined to start a fire.   
  
Michael struggled with what to say long enough for her roll her eyes and attempt to flee. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could polish them, “Can we talk?”  
  
“We have nothing to say to each other.”  
  
“Come on, Steffy,” His words finally cut her off, keeping her paused long enough for him plead, “…please, let me explain.”  
  
“Fine, you know what? This I gotta hear.” Steffy whipped around, stomping towards him so fast he backed up, “What was it, huh? You have a thing for making girls feel like dirt or is it just me?”   
  
“No, of course not.”  
  
“Or is the idea of being with me so repulsive you nearly jump out a window to keep me from touching you?”  
  
“That’s not it, Steffy.”  
  
“You’re right. It had to be the blue. You hate the color? That’s why you acted like your skin was crawling. Like your sneakers had caught fire, and you just had to get out of the office! Why didn’t I think of that before? It had nothing to do with me, right? It’s all you?”  
  
Michael tightened his jaw, refusing to give her explanation as she exploded.  
  
When noting his shutdown, she hung her head.   
  
_Something. I should say something._  
  
Michael nearly gave into the idea until she lifted her head, revealing tears falling from her oceans of blue, and he felt lower than before – he had humiliated her again.  
  
“What is it about me that makes you want to run?”  
  
_It’s everything!_  
  
Michael tried to speak, only to realize he couldn’t make a sound.  
  
“You think I don’t get it? I don’t get you? What I’m too dumb to understand? So stuck on myself that I can’t possibly grasp whatever drama you got going on?” Throwing her fist into his arm, she pushed a strong front forward despite the hurt evident in her expression, “I understand perfectly! You’re just like everyone else! You only pretended to be my friend! To be anything to me!”  
  
Unable to take her smacks any longer, he ceased her actions by grapping her wrists. His instincts told him to fight back, regardless of the assailant, but his heart told him something else entirely as she lost all grace in front of him.  
  
Steffy awaited an answer, begged for one, as she stared back at him. Her expression was clouded with grief and shame, clearly assuming his rejection was her fault.  
  
After releasing a deep breath, Michael uttered the words he was sure would send her away with some sort of self-satisfaction, “I went to prison.”  
  
Her eyes widened with something he could not detect. Fear? Surprise? Relief?  
  
A breath at a time, Michael attempted to explain as he let her go, “My life sucked long before that, but…it’s what everyone knows me for now.”  
  
Michael put some distance between them, giving her time to return the favor – this was her big opportunity to reject him. He was prepared for that, welcomed it even, while sitting on the bench.  
  
It seemed like his life operated in slow motion, just anticipating the next horror and fast forwarding through the smiles.   
  
She broke the cycle, refusing to let him rush anything, as she took her precious time settling into a seat beside him. At first, she said nothing at all – sometimes staring out at the water, sometimes staring at him. Then she crossed one leg over the other, cupping his chin and forcing him to look at her.   
  
Michael wanted to scream at her,  _This is your only chance. Leave now before I drag you into my mess. You don’t want anything to do with my life._  
  
A smile emerged across her lips when he said nothing, “You can tell me everything or nothing. I’m not going anywhere, Michael.”   
  
His stomach twisted itself into knots as he watched her take his hand, bring it to her lips, and give it a tender kiss. Something in his mind told him to react, jump at the chance while he still had one; instead, he memorized every detail about her movement as she clasped his hand between hers and offered a look of absolute acceptance.  
  
“You have my word.”  
  
Michael had no reason to get his hopes up, letting out a heavy breath, “There’s a lot, Steffy. None of it is good.”  
  
“I don’t care. None of it changes who you are and what you’ve done to help me.”  
  
“You barely know me.”  
  
She shrugged her shoulders, “So I get the good parts, I’m fine with that.”  
  
_No, you don’t understand._  He shot to a stand, forcing himself to leave the comfort she freely presented to him, “You don’t know half of it. What people say or how much is true—“  
  
“I don’t want to hear about your life from someone else, Michael. I want to hear from you. But if you’re not ready to say anything, I’m not going to force you. You wouldn’t do that to me.”  
  
Without looking at her, the words left his mouth sour, “How do you know?”  
  
“I don’t know. I just do.”   
  
He glanced over his shoulder to see her still seated, determined in her stature, “What if I told you I killed somebody?”  
  
She took a minute, digesting the question, then answered, “I’d ask what did the person do to you?”  
  
“…what if I said I had been shot before?”  
  
Again, she pondered for a moment, “I’d ask if I could see the scar.”  
  
Michael turned to her, a frown clouding his features, until he found her flirtatious smile awaiting him – not a hint of fear in her demeanor. Shaking his head, he tried to hide a grin. The last thing he wanted to do was give in, allow her to stick by him as he was just starting to get himself together, but it was hard to resist a woman with her persistence.  
  
When she noticed he had eased, she braved a close of the distance between them.   
  
Michael forced himself to stand still, wanting to break down the walls separating him from her.  
  
“You know I was serious the other night about thanking you.” When he tensed up, she smiled and rested her hands on his shoulders, “Relax, Michael, no more presents in my underwear. You have my word.”  
  
While he mentally cursed himself out for screwing up a chance other men would kill for, Michael thanked her with a calm nod.  
  
“So, it’s your call,” She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, giving him the freedom to resist her, “what can I do to thank you? What do you need help with?”  
  
A million relatively simple ideas flashed through his mind, but each was cheesier than the last. All of his possibilities seemed unreal, too minimal, and he would not dare insult her again.   
  
He sighed, sharing the most honest answer he could think of, “…I just want to be normal.”  
  
“Normal.” Steffy repeated the word, clearly contemplating its implication, then gave positive response, “I can do that.”  
  
“You can?”  
  
“Oh yeah. Sure.” Steffy took his arm, dragging him towards a questionable destination, “Now, granted, I may not be the person to learn normal from. But I am at your command, Blondie.”  
  
Michael tilted his head back, a laugh erupting from his belly. One that didn’t feel forced or fake.   
  
A laugh that meant he’d follow her into a fire and trust she knew how to get out. One that told the world he was in the company of a real friend.


	4. Warning Signs

**Warning Signs**  
  
Her efforts allowed him to create a life of simple satisfaction.   
  
It became easy to be around her, comfortable even, as she devoted so much time to him – helping him avoid all his issues and excuses.  
  
She had helped him create a decent business card for the motorcycle shop Jason had rebuilt for him to run. Her efforts had made him look like a superstar at Morgan’s birthday, when he walked in with a bag of game rarities. There were no longer any days without a text message or phone call, no longer a Saturday night without a thing to do, and he found himself losing a sense of a reality without her.   
  
So lost that his inner sirens sounded off, every one of them telling him that it could not last – eventually, the truth would seep into the dream and something would ruin what they had.   
  
He tried to refocus on the moment as she bounced around the store – determined to “liven up” his place with some “homey” touches.  
  
Reaching a wall of pillows, she touched her fingers to the different fabrics, “They gotta be comfortable or you’ll conveniently lose them somewhere.”  
  
“I think my apartment is fine the way it is.”  
  
“Of course, you do. You’re such a guy.” She pulled out and pushed in the pillows upon individual investigation, “As long as you got paper plates to eat off, a couch to sleep on, and a big ol’ TV to watch the game, you think you're home. Never mind if people actually dread coming over.”   
  
Michael watched her efforts in amusement, leaning against the pillows she had already scanned, “What you saying you don’t want to come over anymore?”  
  
“Like that’ll ever happen.”  
  
She had no idea how much her answer pleased him, satisfied and stroked his ego. Her adoration made him feel like he may be capable of confidence – not so easily knocked over by other people and their disapproval.  
  
Giving his chest a gentle pat, she moved onto the lower part of the wall, “Face it, you’re stuck with me.”  
  
Michael shook his head, allowing his eyes to wander the furniture and figures of the large department store. While doing so, he caught the first disturbance to their outing.  
  
A guy, standing about ten feet away, stared at Steffy as though he were ready to pounce on her. Eyeing her with his light eyes, he straightened his clothing as though he were about to approach.  
  
Michael’s jaw tightened at the sighting, his whole body tense as he began to lose knowledge of Steffy’s presence all together.  
  
“It’s the right color, but a little too frilly for a bachelor pad, right?”  
  
Her voice was faint to him as his eyes remained glued to the stranger.  
  
“Michael?”   
  
Suddenly, the rough impact of something across his shoulder caused him to turn to her in anger, “What?”  
  
“Love it or hate it?”   
  
The lace like pattern immediately turned him off, but he remained distracted by the problem – a guy who saw her as nothing more than her outward appearance. Michael knew it, felt it.  
  
This guy had no interest in Steffy for who she was, for who he knew her to be…or at least that’s what Michael told himself.   
  
“What’s wrong with you?” She stood on her toes, peering over his shoulder, then settled back to a stand, “Is that guy the reason for your Darth Vader stare?”  
  
Michael tried to ignore the frustration boiling in his veins, moving past her to gain some distance from the issue, “Not funny.”  
  
“Oh, come on, I’m not saying I don’t understand.” Following him closely, she offered a smile to the store worker and tried to play off his dangerous demeanor, “I’m saying there are different ways to handle things, that’s all.”  
  
“I don’t know, Steffy. I’m kind of set on the whole ‘get the hell outta here’ solution.”  
  
“I know. I know.” She stopped his walk, stepping in front of him and placing the pillow to his body, “Just let me do my job, please.”  
  
“Which is what? Let some guy check you out while you try to buy an ugly pillow?”  
  
“What? No!” She shoved the pillow into a new spot, grumbling as she did so, “Do you or do you not remember having conversations with me about what is and isn’t normal?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And is it or is it not important for you to fit in with even the most insanely boring individuals?”  
  
He waited for her eyes to return to him before he rolled his, “What’s the point?”  
  
“The point is that it’s about time for you to have a normal reaction to a situation in public.” She waited for him to fight her, trigger her to argue her point more; instead, he shrugged his shoulders to signal he was open to suggestions, “All right, so that guy’s checking me out. And as much as you hate to say it out loud, you and I both know it bugs you.”  
  
Michael bowed his head, not wanting to confess anything – not wanting to lead her in the wrong direction by saying things he should keep to himself.  
  
“So, if you want him to stay at a distance, if you want him to see I’m here with you, maybe you shouldn’t look like just a…” Steffy hesitated, finding a way to decorate the word, “special friend to me. Give him a signal. A very subtle signal versus the Gladiator crap you usually do.”  
  
“Really? And what’s this sign you want me to give your little stalker?”  
  
“Preferably something doesn’t make him piss his pants in fear.” Steffy leaned in, still trying to play off their conversation to observers around them, “Just—if he looks my way, you stand close and…put your arm around me. Let him know I’m not here alone.”  
  
The last thing Michael wanted to do was imply they were together, imply she was his and play caveman; but he would not allow her to be used ever again.  
  
Stepping around to the other side of her, he got into a position of surveillance. Biding his time, he was silent as she began to busy herself with the search once more.  
  
It was seconds before the guy’s eyes had returned to her, brave in their inspection.  
  
Michael’s hands balled into fists, but he was frozen. Afraid to react without thinking, he debated whether or not to follow her advice – debated what the action would ‘mean’ to their current situation. A situation which brought him more peace than a relationship ever could.  
  
However, his adversary had made it past the debating stage and was on his way.  
  
Before he could reason with his better senses, Michael’s arm had slid around her waist and pulled her body flush against his.   
  
It was success as the man deflated somewhat and chose to pass the two of them.  
  
Releasing a heavy breath, he returned his attention to her and spotted the smirk dancing on her glossy lips.  
  
“There may be hope for you yet, Michael.”


	5. Detour

**Detour**  
  
_“I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about me, Steffy…about us.”_  
  
“Meaning?”  
  
Michael’s answer could have been anything, explained the many complications lying between them yet again; instead, he had found the nicest way to say he thought she should see other people. While he wanted to keep her to his self, he knew it was not fair to put her in the position of waiting – make her stick around for a heart that was beyond repair.  
  
Yet it was his first Saturday night alone since he had befriended her and the possibilities of what that meant drove him towards the brink of a whole new insanity.  
  
Was she out on a date? She was probably with some jerk that lacked the manners of keeping his hands to himself. Someone who had no clue what made her laugh or cared what made her cry.   
  
Aggravated, he began to pound his fists against the concrete of the steps he was perched upon.   
  
He had gotten to her brownstone over an hour ago and parked himself on the building’s stoop (there had been no answer when he buzzed her place). Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked the time.  
  
_8:30. Barely enough time to get dinner._  
  
He knew her. She’d spend hours gabbing before she took a bite of her appetizer.   
  
It would be nonsense about her fashion line or the demands of being a young fashion power house. There was no way she would freely divulge information about her personal life to a new person. Instead, he could picture her being overly flirtatious with her company. She’d wear a dress tight enough to keep the man’s attention when her blue eyes failed to strike him dumb.  
  
She would set herself up for disappointment with someone he would hate, for more reasons than he would ever be able to count or list.  
  
On the other hand, one idea brought him joy. Steffy had listened to him. He had made a request, and she obliged. Not many people trusted him to make decisions alone, yet she often left him in command of the ship with little regard for consequence.  
  
Because of this, he knew it was wrong to wait – to give her date the third degree. Allowing his eyes once last glance towards her dark window, he started to leave.  
  
“Michael?”  
  
A wince clouded his features at the sound of his name, his heart sinking at the impossibility of escape. Shoving his hands in his coat pockets, Michael faced her with a weak smile, “Hey.”  
  
Steffy rushed to him, her eyes full of concern, “Oh my God, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”  
  
Rather than immediately address her, he found himself searching for a third party nearby. He was fully expectant that someone would be right beside her; he found nothing.   
  
This made him feel like an even bigger idiot as she led him to the entrance of the building.  
  
“Is something wrong? Did something happen to your family?”  
  
“No, I just—I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”  
  
“What?” Steffy let out a low growl, glancing back at him in disbelief, and took him inside her home, “You’re going to end up a Popsicle, and I’m going to have to explain to the almighty Carly Spencer that her son was just wondering in my neck of the woods? You better have a good excuse up your sleeve.”  
  
Crossing the threshold, he let out a sigh of relief at the familiarity of his surroundings. Still too much green, still in perfect order, and there was not a hint of man anywhere he could easily set his eyes on. Life was good.  
  
“I know you sent some texts, but I couldn’t get to it while arguing with Kate. She still thinks she has input into the fashion show I’m putting on next month. Can you believe that?”  
  
Michael made himself comfortable, settling into a stool at her counter as she moved about the kitchen. Without asking, she had begun the process of making hot chocolate.  
  
He watched her hands delicately handled her oversized mugs, inhaled deeply when she ripped open the packets of instant chocolate, and smiled whenever she looked in his direction to reassure herself he was listening.  
  
Waiting for the water to boil, she made her way around to his side of the counter and sat beside him. Steffy stared at him expectantly, poking his side, “What’s going on, Blondie?”  
  
Chuckling under his breath, he shook his head and avoided her eyes, “Nothing.”  
  
“You’re terrible liar, you know that?” She waited for his eyes to meet hers and pouted her lips with sympathy, “Come on, even your cute little spikes are ice.”   
  
He surprised himself when he did not bolt at the touch of her hand as it ruffled his hair.  
  
“Fine.” She conceded with a huff, leaving the seat and responding to the whistling tea kettle, “I’ll just act like I think nothing’s bothering you, and we can just sit in boring silence until—“  
  
“I thought you were on a date.” Michael blurted the answer out, knowing had he not she would do her best to wear him down until he had, “When you didn’t answer, I thought you went out.”  
  
“Went out where? With who?” She poured the water into the cups, laughing off his assumption, “Michael, I still have to wait another year before my best friend,  **you** , can go drinking with me. Twenty-two-years-old and I feel like everything is on hold.”  
  
In his head, he could hear Jason coaxing him through the difficulty of the moment by insisting he keep his head straight. His green eyes centered in on the sound of the spoon hitting the mug’s side and the spinning chocolate within the cup. His frustration came down, his muscles relaxed, as she set his cup in front him.  
  
“Michael, when do I have the time to date? The line is dominating all my time and, when it doesn’t, I’m with you.” After the statement left her lips, she hung her head and grabbed the other drink, “Even though you would prefer things happened a little differently.”  
  
Following her into the living room, he released a heavy breath, “You know I like having you around. I just don’t want you to have any—expectations.”  
  
“Expectations? I thought you knew I’d learned that lesson a long time ago. The higher your expectations, the more people just let you down.”  
  
Michael took a seat beside her, sinking into the plush sofa as he set his mug on the coffee table.  
  
“You know, I…I’m probably not the person to be friends with. I’m the last person anyone should trust. But you are and you have with me, and…that’s what matters to me.” Curling up in the space beside him, she set her elbow on the back of the couch and propped her head up with her fist, “You know that night you ran out of the office?”   
  
They shared a mutual smirk of discomfort.  
  
“As much as it irritated me, knowing I wasn’t going to get what I wanted, it proved something.”  
  
With his hands in his lap, he leaned back and tilted his head in her direction, “What’s that?”  
  
“You don’t want anything from me. Not my money or my body, just—to be there. For whatever reason, you care about what happens to me when there’s nothing in it for you.”   
  
Michael drowned in the warmth of her stare, knowing it was meant for him. Only for him.  
  
“I don’t…if you think I need to go out and seek  _ **something**_  from someone else, I’m telling you I don’t. If this is the way things are, I’m fine with that. You mean that much to me, Michael.” Her free hand stroked his cheek, “Tell me you believe me.”  
  
Unable to break her stare, he tried to will himself to get up but found his body was dead weight, “I believe you.”  
  
“I know so many people who could care less about me, then here’s this one guy who just takes such great care of me for no other reason than he’s one of the good ones.” A tear spilled down her cheek, despite the adoring smile on her lips, “I just wish you could trust yourself with me.”  
  
_I do too._ Michael swallowed hard, torn between lessening her pain and giving into his instinct to run, “Steffy, I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“You won’t.”  
  
“You don’t know that.”  
  
“Yes, I do.” Dropping her hands to her sides, she shifted her body to face forward and ceased all contact with him, “I trust you, Michael. Even if you can’t trust yourself.”  
  
He shut his eyes as she dropped her head onto his shoulder, snaking her arms around his right bicep and bending her body toward his.   
  
It was all a reminder that he would have no choice, eventually Steffy would get the best of him and he would not be able to go back. He would ruin the whole thing.


	6. Caution

**Caution**  
  
“Michael Corinthos, if you don’t open this door, I swear to God!”  
  
Smiling at the threat, he flipped the switch and sent the garage door in motion. A laugh followed her as she entered the shop, soaking wet with a bag in one hand and a newspaper in the other (acting and failing as an umbrella).  
  
“This is the last time I do you a favor.” She immediately threw the useless, soaked paper in the nearest trash. Shaking her hair out, she made her way towards the cooler and began to load the items, “You owe me an extremely expensive dinner.”  
  
Michael immediately at the request, teasing her with a bow and getting a soda thrown at him in retaliation, “Oh, well, will do, Ms. Forrester.”   
  
“Is that the latest project?” Steffy shut the cooler door, tossing the plastic bags aside and made her way over to motorcycle, “All of these things belong to this bike?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s pretty much a complete overhaul.”   
  
Steffy reached down to his tool box, ignoring his irritated look, “Hmm…so how much would I have to know to use this thing?”  
  
Setting his can down, he rushed to her side in an attempt to get the tool back, “You’d have to know a lot, all right? So give it here.”  
  
“Oh really? It can’t be that complicated.” Steffy inched towards the bike, watching him closely, “All I have to do is put it somewhere and turn, right?”  
  
Michael feared she would ruin his work, destroy his biggest project to date, and immediately prevented her from touching the tool to the bike.   
  
Rather than hand the tool over, she erupted with laughter as she maneuvered around him – pleased to have him chase her for any reason.  
  
Michael couldn’t help but grin when seeing the happiness play out over her features.   
  
A smile on her luscious lips, a twinkle in her eyes, and her laughter sounded like the sweetest song to his ears.   
  
He had become so hypnotized that he forgot to watch himself, carefully plan out a reaction, and she was in his arms. Staring at him with a longing look, she stilled in his embrace.  
  
Releasing her, he immediately got his senses back and put some distance between them. He cleared his throat and walked back towards the open garage door, “Looks like the rain stopped.”  
  
“Yeah?” Steffy took his cue, not dwelling on the moment and joining him at the open space, “The sun was trying to come out earlier. Just not for me, apparently.”  
  
Michael recognized her state, still drenched from before, and cursed himself for not reacting sooner. Allowing her a moment alone, he went into his office to retrieve a fresh towel.  
  
_You’re an idiot. You’ve got to be more careful with her._  
  
He nearly drove his fist into the wall, but he gave himself a minute to calm down. Though he wandered too far for a moment, Michael was content in the knowledge that he had stopped himself – no harm, no foul.  
  
Returning to the garage, he found her enjoying the sun.  
  
Her eyes were closed as she lifted her chin and allowed her face to bask in the light. Leaning against the door’s frame, she smiled into the sun until his footsteps began to approach.   
  
Extending the towel to her, Michael offered a grin, “That’s the best I can do.”  
  
She giggled at the raggedy cloth, dabbing it on her skin, “Guess it’ll have to do.”  
  
“Thanks for getting all that stuff. I appreciate it, you know?”  
  
“I know.” Tossing the towel back to him, she closed her eyes and went back to her previous stance, “You’re the only I know who really appreciates the little things that people do.”  
  
Michael crossed his arms, setting his eyes selfishly upon her, “Is that a bad thing?”  
  
“Not at all. Just reminds me what I strive for, appreciation for the small things and not so much attention to the fleeting big moments.” She broke her stand, clearly pained by the thought, “…I feel like I’m built differently than people like you.”  
  
Shaking his head, he moved to a stand beside her, “What? You’re not human?”  
  
“I’m not sweet.”  
  
“Now, I’m sweet?”  
  
“No.”  
  
He watched as she tried to fix her blunder, search her mind for the perfect explanation.  
  
“It’s like birthday cakes, okay?”  
  
“Birthday cakes?”  
  
“Yeah,” She growled at his wrinkled brow, insisting, “It’s like this. There are people like you or Hope, the  _saintly_  stepsister, who are like cakes at a kid’s birthday party.”  
  
“You realize this analogy’s getting worse, right?”  
  
“Just shut up.” The hole she dug was deep, but she had no problem arguing her way out of it, “You look at a kid’s cake, and it’s this big ‘aw’ moment. Everyone gathers around it and expects it to taste like candy, like they gain some kind of innocence out of a bite.”  
  
“O…kay, but you’re a different kind of cake?”  
  
“No! I’m like the girl who pops out of the cake at a bachelor party and gets everyone gathered around for completely different reasons.”  
  
“Did something happen at the office today?” Michael hated when she got like this. Self deprecating and defeated. He dropped his arms, letting out a heavy sigh, “Steffy, you gotta stop doing this to yourself. Stop expecting people to see you the way you want them to.”  
  
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…I think something got gutted out of me. Something I can never get back.” Steffy hugged herself tightly, her eyes now set on the tar of the alleyway, “Maybe it happened when Phoebe died or…when my dad turned my back on me. I don’t know.”  
  
Both stories he knew well, received background information when she had ‘good’ moments, and decided to share stories of her deceased twin as well as her self-serving father.  
  
“I feel like I’m always after something I will never get. Because somewhere, a long time ago, I had it – had happiness and was so blind I couldn’t even realize it.”  
  
“So next times happiness comes around try not to ignore it.”  
  
Steffy bumped him with her elbow, “Is it that easy for you?”  
  
The highlights of her hair danced in the dying afternoon light, prompting him to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Sometimes.”  
  
Steffy’s eyes returned to his, grinning even as his greasy hand brushed the skin of her neck.  
  
For a split second, he felt absolutely present.   
  
His mind would not wander from the woman standing beside him, enjoying his touch and the comfortable silence between them. Losing his fingers in waves of her hair, he brought her close and stared into her eyes.   
  
Again, she was completely settled against his body.   
  
He gave in, refusing to deny himself one request, and permitted his lips to finally explore the softness of hers.   
  
Patiently, he took time to envelop her lips with his and memorize the feel in case this was his only chance.  
  
Her face was safe in his palms as he did so, feeling her hands cover the back of his.   
  
When he finally stopped himself, he did not have the courage to look into her eyes – to have her question or challenge him. Instead, he rested his forehead against hers and left his hands at her cheeks. He inhaled the hot the breath she released and prayed she could not feel his heart pound against her body while she melted into him.  
  
She stroked his wrists with her thumbs, whispering with a breath between them, “You make it easy for me to be happy, Michael.”


	7. Side Streets

**Side Streets**

“A gym?”

“Yeah,” Michael remained excited as he walked her through the stifling space. Planting his feet firmly in the center of the property, he thought aloud, “Morgan couldn’t believe I got a space right across the street from the shop. He’s ready to start boxing now, wants to be a part of the whole process. We’re even talking about putting his name on the building, and then when he’s old enough I’ll sign it all over to him.”

She forced a smile, clearly struggling but attempting to share his enthusiasm.

He dropped his hands, smiling at her discomfort, “You hate the idea?”

“What? No!” Steffy approached him, taking his hands in hers, “I think it’s great you and your brother will have something to share. It’s gonna be great.”

“Then what’s with the—“ He rolled his eyes as she pointed out a cobweb to him, squeezing her hands to keep her focused, “I want you to tell me the truth. What do you think about all of this?”

“Well…is it gonna be a classy gym like the kind they advertise on TV? Or more of a ‘Rocky’ kind of scene?”

“It’s going to be a place where people can come and get their mind off things. Who cares how it looks?”

Dropping his hands, she took a few steps away from him and surveyed her surroundings, “So you’re gonna cut our time together yet again, huh? You realize this will be two businesses, don’t you, Blondie?”

Michael examined her with his trained eye: her sunken shoulders and wandering eyes, her protruding lower lip, and the nervous ringing of her hands. Instantly, he knew where her mind had traveled.

_She thinks you’re running. She thinks you’re trying to avoid her._

__They hadn’t discussed the kiss. Or anything else for that matter.

Instead, they continued as friends who occasionally shared a kiss before scurrying off in opposite directions – beaming as though they were weightless.  
__  
{When I was younger I saw my daddy  
cry and curse at the wind.  
He broke his own heart and  
I watched as he tried to re-assemble it.  
And my mamma swore she would  
never let herself forget.  
And that was the day that I promised  
I'd never sing of love if does not exist.}

Continuing the tradition, Michael gave her a response with little specifics. 

He came up behind her, embracing her upper body, and caught a hint of her pleased smile, “Owning a business means I decide the hours, so I guess I’ll just have to make time for you.”

Steffy curled her arms around his as he rested his chin on her shoulder, “You know, now that you mention it, I’m thinking it’s going to be very successful.”

~*~

She made him vow prompt arrival tonight. 

_“Seven thirty, Michael, not a second before or later.”_

Upon approaching her door, the strong scent of smoke hit him and the loud whine of an alarm sent him into full blown panic.

A smile had faded from his lips by the time his fist began to pound against the wood surface, “Steffy! Steffy, open the door!”

When she failed to respond, he quickly debated his options. He found the door locked, decided his cell phone would take too long, and stepped back, preparing himself to send his body through the solid form. 

Just then, she swung the door open and continued her journey throughout the kitchen and living room.

Michael’s relief took a moment to set in as he ventured inward. She had opened all the nearby windows, waving the cloud away with the kitchen towel in her hand.

His green eyes widened as he spotted the oven wide open with a very black pan seated on the shelf, “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a disaster that’s what it is!” Steffy snapped, throwing the towel down, and revealed a disappointed frown, “I screwed up everything!”

Michael removed his jacket, despite the increasing cold temperature of her home, and began to fan smoke out of the window above the sink, “What is all this?”

“It was food!” Steffy ran a hand into her hair, strangling the strands, and grabbed papers off the counter with the other, “I printed recipes and everything. I don’t understand what happened.”

“Why would you even try?”

“Because I was trying to do something special for you! I was trying to do a pre-thanksgiving dinner for just the two of us.” The tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the burnt turkey breast, “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Michael’s eyes bounced from the black pan to the pots crowding the stove top. Letting out a heavy sigh, trying not to cough and further her humiliation, Michael pointed towards one, “That looks fine. We can just eat that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, quickly thumbing away tears, “That was canned!” 

“Well, what do you want me to say, Steffy? You can’t cook?”

“Why not? We both know I’m terrible at anything remotely housewife.”

“You’re right.” 

_{Maybe I know somewhere deep in_  
my soul that love never lasts.  
And we've got to find other ways  
to make it alone or keep a straight face.  
And I've always lived like this  
keeping a comfortable, distance.  
And up until now I swore to myself  
that I'm content with loneliness,  
‘Cause none of it was ever worth the risk.} 

Michael nodded, slipping his jacket back on, and shoved the shelf back in, slamming the stove shut. He playfully opened his jacket and closed it around her, boring his eyes deeply into hers, “You’re never gonna get married,  ** _and_**  you can’t cook.”

Steffy laughed in spite of her distress, her hands joining at his spine, “I’m still smoking hot though, so I should go grab me a husband while the getting’s good, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Just text them a picture of that turkey, and I’m sure they’ll be busting the door down.”

“You know you’re really bad at this whole cheering me up thing. You should consider the fact that an incredibly considerate friend of yours went through the trouble of burns and cuts just to burn some grub for you.”

“You’re so right.” Michael’s hands wandered up to her shoulders, his fingertips caressing the sides of her neck, “Did I thank you for that?”

“Not even a little.” 

“I better fix that.” 

Unreserved, Michael swept her away in a gentle kiss before proposing an expensive dinner outside of the brownstone.

~*~

“This is gonna suck so bad.” 

“It’s not. Just calm down.” Steffy continued to adjust his tie, stabilizing his nerves with her steel gaze, as the limo’s speed slowed down, “We’re just going to do a quick walk of the red carpet, get blinded by some cameras, and then I’ll get you backstage where you can hide for the rest of the night.”

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t just be stationed back there in the first place.”

“Because someone freaked out at the idea of me going on a date much less walking with some tall, dark, handsome stranger at my fashion line debut.”

His eyes darkened at the comment, his voice at a low warn, “You don’t need some guy with you to pose for a bunch of pictures.”

“Why do you always do that?” She dropped her hands for a moment, huffing with an angered smirk, “You always just assume I’m going to pounce on an opportunity to leave you on the sidelines somewhere. I would never do that to you, Michael.”

Michael hung his head, silenced at the severity of her words as she began to fuss with his tie again. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He always assumed the worst would crash down at any minute; he was like his mother in that sense – not trusting those who begged for it the most. His teenage years had left him a very confused young man, struggling to adjust to his independence and the woman who fought so hard to stand beside him.

_{I've got a tight grip on reality_  
but I can't let go of what’s part of me here  
I know you're leaving in the morning, when you wake up,  
leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream} 

While many would have anything but nice things to say about Steffy, he adored her. Her patience allowed him to grow comfortable with a simple kiss. The humor she had usually brought him out of his moods. Her looks had lured in many, but her heart had been fully exposed to him. For this, Michael would never question what she told him and fought daily to trust it would last. 

However, moments like this – threats of outside opinion and public displays of what they were (whatever that meant) – made every hair wiggle with anxiety.

The car came to a stop, leaving Steffy’s eyes to wander from him to the flood of media not ten feet away. 

She drew in a deep breath, brushing hair out of eyes, and forced a smile, insisting, “You know what? Forget it, Blondie…I’ll just see you backstage.”

As her lips sealed the new plan with a kiss to his cheek, his confusion and concern were eased at the proposal – thankful they did not have be poked and prodded by strangers set to scrutinize.

However, as the driver helped her out of the car, he knew she was deflated. 

She forced herself to stand straight, flexing her hands and shaking the nerves out, before she rounded the back end of the car.

_{You are the only exception_  
You are the only exception   
You are the only exception   
You are the only exception  
And I’m on my way to believing  
Oh, and I’m on my way to believing} 

Before her silver heel could meet the carpets edge, he had escaped the backseat and shut the door. Michael extended his hand to her as the crowd began to rumble and flashes started going off. Releasing a deep breath, he straightened his jacket as she placed her hand within his. 

Steffy stopped him before they could begin their walk, questioning his certainty with her gaze.

Lacing their fingers, he offered a small nod and led her down the path of publicity – focusing only on her renewed smile.

**__[Song Credit: "The Only Exception" - Paramore](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-J7J_IWUhls&ob=av3e) **


	8. Main Drags

**Main Drags**    
  
“And you two are…?”  
  
Michael squared his shoulders at his mother’s inquiry, allowing a smile to emerge as he bowed his head, “We’re friends.”  
  
His mom released a low grunt as her blue eyes sailed in the direction of his dinner guest and her younger son. Pressing on, she placed her hand on Michael’s chin, “You know ‘friends’ don’t go walking the red carpet together and let all the tabloids go nuts over ‘are they’ or ‘aren’t they’.”  
  
“I don’t pay attention to that stuff, and you know it.” He glanced over again, soaking in the image of Steffy trying to cheat at a video game – attempting to pry a controller from Morgan’s hands as they both released elevating laughter, “Who cares what anyone thinks.”  
  
“Your mama cares.” Her finger poked his chest, the teasing tone of her voice bled into caution, “Do you know what you’re really getting into here? Michael, she’s got a pretty heavy past.”  
  
“Mom, please, tell me you didn’t investigate Steffy.”  
  
“Well…”  
  
“You told me you liked her! I brought her over, you said she seemed nice, and that should’ve been it. Why would you do a full blown background check?”  
  
“Now, wait, before you get upset with me, just let me explain.” Carly drew him further into the foyer, grinning when Steffy and Morgan gauged the growing volume between them, “I didn’t do anything more than a Google search. I swear. But I recognize her from a mile away. I used to be that girl, Michael. I would scheme and manipulate to get exactly what I wanted.”  
  
“She’s not like that. Not with me.”  
  
“You’re sure?”  
  
“I’m positive, Mom. Steffy cares about me because of what we are to each other. She doesn’t want anything from me except for me to just—be there.” Michael saw her skepticism and softened his tone, insisting, “I know exactly how she feels about me. Because I feel that way about her.” Pleading with his best puppy dog eyes, he begged as only a son could, “Trust me on this, and let it be. Please.”  
  
Carly crossed her arms, a mist clouding and diminishing the protectiveness in her stare. After a moment, she cupped his chin with her hand and asked one simple question, “Are you happy, baby?”  
  
Michael covered her wrist with his hand, whispering, “I am, Mom.”  
  
“Okay,” Carly let out a heavy sigh, embracing him tightly before he could spot her tears, then added, “I’ll accept her as long as she’s keeping you happy. The second she doesn’t, all bets are off. You hear me?”  
  
“Yeah, Mom,” He hugged her warmly, agreeing, “I hear you.”  
  
~*~  
  
After a light knock, Michael peeked into her office and felt his heart rate elevate the second her excited eyes met his.  
  
“Hold on, Grandma.” She gave her laptop a ‘one second’ signal and stood to her feet. Flashing a megawatt smile, she waved her hands and motioned him inward, “Michael, come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”  
  
Michael paused, mouthing to her,  _What? No! I can’t._  
  
Giving her laptop another signal, she excused herself, “Just a minute.” Rushing over to him, she kept her voice down to a murmur, “Just trust me, this is the only person in my life you need approval from, and she’s gonna love you.” When he continued to hesitate, Steffy placed a kiss near his earlobe, “Please?”  
  
He tried to ignore the concern and followed her to her office chair.  
  
“Grandma, this is Michael.” Steffy touched her hand to his neck as he leaned down to smile into the camera, “He’s the reason for…everything.”  
  
Her announcement caused his cheeks to run hot. He was meeting her first family member via a video conference, and he had nothing more than an embarrassed wave to give.   
  
Stephanie leaned closed to her camera, clearly examining his image on her computer, “What a cute little thing. You’re the kid they had locked up?”  
  
Steffy’s eyes went wide, “Grandma!”   
  
“What? You think I’m going to just ignore some guy hanging around my granddaughter?”  
  
Michael kept a smile on his face even as Steffy seemed mortified.  
  
Stephanie continued, despite any discomfort she saw on her screen, “Look, I didn’t say I didn’t like him. Frankly, I think it’s a travesty what they did to you – an example because of your last name. We don’t get to pick our parents.”  
  
Steffy stroked his skin with her fingertips as her grandmother spoke, relating her apologies to him as though she had any control over what had happened to him.  
  
It never ceased to amaze him how she knew. The moment the memories came at him, when they began to suffocate him, Steffy was now there.   
  
Stephanie watched the two of them in silence. Waiting a beat, she made a firm assertion, “You keep that smile on my Steffy’s face, and you’ll be just fine in my book. You got that, Michael?”  
  
Michael eyes traveled from the screen back to Steffy’s adoring eyes as he nodded, “Understood.”   
  
~*~  
  
It should’ve been their first date.   
  
They had teased each other back and forth until Steffy had finally got him to say it.  
  
_"It’s a date."_  
  
However, she had been late. So late he had begun a search.  
  
When she didn’t answer her cell phone, when she wasn’t at her home, Michael had called in back up – making Jason promise he would send everyone out to find her.  
  
Watching the floor levels light up, one by one, Michael prayed time had gotten away from her. Prayed another argument with Kate or a supplier had kept her so furious she spaced their time together.   
  
_Ding!_  
  
The bell’s call alerted him to step off the elevator and into the empty space.   
  
Right away, he heard the voices coming from her closed office.  
  
“No!”  
  
“I’m not leaving you here!”  
  
“STOP! GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”  
  
Michael saw red, busting into her office to spot only one thing – a man with his hands on her.  
  
Steffy’s shrill scream surged through the air as he reacted on instinct, one arm around the man’s throat and the other on his head – in position to break his neck, “NO!!!”  
  
Michael was frozen in position, his whole body tense with rage even as her look softened towards the mystery man.   
  
“No, Michael, stop! He’s my father!”  
  
Instantly, he came down – realizing the large man was responsible for her…his sanity.   
  
_Oh God…_  
  
Releasing the man with shock, Michael watched as he fell to the ground and coughed incessantly.  
  
Steffy fell to her knees, trying to prop him up, “Dad? Dad, are you okay?”  
  
Michael’s eyes flooded, his body shivering at his actions, as he stepped back.   
  
Her father stared straight at him, eyes wide with horror, as he held a hand to his throat, “This is what I’m talking about, Steffy! You’re in danger here!”  
  
“No, Dad, you don’t understand.”  
  
“You stay away from my daughter!”  
  
Michael did as told, refusing to listen to Steffy’s calls out for him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Road Blocks**  
  
The cell phone’s vibration caused it to crawl across the coffee table.   
  
Michael had ignored it entirely, zoning out with the latest video game Morgan obtained.  
  
Suddenly, the television screen read ‘paused’.  
  
“Are you ever going to talk to her again?”  
  
“Morgan, let’s not talk about things you don’t understand, all right?”   
  
“What’s there to understand? What did she do?”  
  
“She didn’t do anything.”  
  
“Then why aren’t you talking to her?”  
  
“It’s none of your business, all right?” Michael’s tone caused Morgan to look away, clearly frustrated by the lack of explanation.   
  
Just as he began to apologize, approaching footsteps eased his unsteady nerves. Turning his head, he found a calm smile awaiting him as the guest requested, “Morgan, could you go tell your mom I’m here.”  
  
“Yeah, Uncle Jason.” Morgan stood to his feet, smiling as he went on his way.  
  
Michael waited until they were alone, “I guess you got my message.”  
  
“Yeah, not sure I understand it all, but you can tell me.” Jason sat beside him on the couch, giving him complete concentration, “What happened?”  
  
“I blew it.” Laughing as the tears formed in his eyes, he recalled everything with vivid detail, “I just ruined everything.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“I thought I could be with her. I actually thought I could be happy with another human being, and completely ignored the fact that I know it’s not possible.” Michael looked at Jason over his shoulder, propping his elbows on his knees, “I know I’m no good.”  
  
Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, Jason’s voice was firm and adamant, “You have got to stop thinking that way, Michael. Whatever happened, it can be fixed.”  
  
“No, you don’t understand.” Escaping his supportive hold, Michael put some distance between them, “I did the worst thing I could ever do. I showed her exactly who I am.”  
  
“Just tell me what happened when you found her.”  
  
“She was at her office, and I heard yelling. So, I went in and I see this guy holding her by the arm, in her face, and I—I just…I wanted to get him away from her.”  
  
Jason’s face remained unchanged, “You did what you had to do to protect her.”  
  
“Stop that! Stop making excuses for me!” Michael shook his head vehemently, his eyes narrowed on Jason, “I could’ve killed him. And what would that have done, huh? How could I ever make that okay for Steffy?”  
  
~*~  
  
His fists flew into the sand bag, each harder than the last; each landing was a testimony to the agony which he allowed to drown the rest of the world out.  
  
Things had progressively grown worse since ‘the incident’. The phone calls had slowly died down, the text messages no longer came, and what was left had gone to the wayside.   
  
To top everything, on this day, his father’s fate had been decided.  
  
Sonny Corinthos had been sent to prison, no possibility of parole.  
  
Michael could only wait for word now, hope that Jason could get his father out of the country before transport to Pentonville.   
  
If the plan failed, he was well aware of the fate which awaited his father.  
  
With the memories spinning around him, he continued to throw punches so hard they pierced his shoulders upon impact.   
  
The bag swung out of control, unable to escape his anger, and allowed him quick glimpses around the empty gym.  
  
With one strike, he could’ve sworn he saw her light brown tresses. In another, her blue eyes.  
  
Then, out of nowhere, she had appeared.  
  
After weeks without contact, Steffy’s presence struck him motionless.  
  
She made a slow approach, dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt. Shoving her thumbs in her pockets, she leaned her back against the wall.  
  
While everything in him wanted to apologize, explain that he never meant any harm to her or her father, Michael remained firm in his decision.  
  
_I have to let you go._  
  
He set his glare on the bag and resumed his actions, “You need to leave.”  
  
“You can’t order me around.”  
  
“I’m serious, Steffy. I thought you understood we can’t hang out anymore.”  
  
She pushed off the wall, “All I understand is you’re scared.”  
  
“I’m not. But you should be.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? Of what?” Refusing to back off, she stood behind the sandbag and held it steady, “Of you? Because I’m not.”  
  
Michael stopped, dropping his hands, “This isn’t a game.”  
  
“That’s right. Which means you don’t get to decide when it ends.” Steffy stepped out from behind the bag, causing him to take a few steps back, “You need me. And, unlike what you did to me, I’m not going to leave you behind.”  
  
“I did the right thing.”  
  
“No, you didn’t! You ran!” Steffy’s accusation fell on deaf ears as he laughed, removing tape from one of his hands, “You couldn’t wait to leave me! You wanted to let me go all along!”  
  
“What?” Michael was brought to halt, staring at her in utter disbelief, “See, that’s how I know you don’t get it! I tried, Steffy! I tried to be with you, to let myself be happy, and I just—“  
  
“What? You just what?”  
  
“Nothing…forget it.”  
  
“No, Michael, talk to me.” Steffy closed the distance between them, grabbing his hands with aggression and forcing him to look at her, “I know about what happened with your dad today, and I’m sorry. I know it has got to be bringing back the worst things that have ever happened to you. Hell, I know my father started it all!”  
  
Michael stared down at her touch, trying to take comfort in it and finding only resentment.  
  
“I’ve been trying to apologize, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to come to you. But the second I heard about Sonny, I knew I had to get you to listen to me.”  
  
He shut his eyes as the tremors began to appear in her voice, fully aware her tears were falling and he was the cause. Michael refused to be the cause; his heart could not take it.  
  
Hearing her sniffle, he felt the tape being removed his hands and popped his eyes open to find her undoing the wrap on his hands.  
  
She took his exposed palms and pressed them to her cheeks, shutting her eyes at the contact; she forced herself to remain brave as he said nothing at all.  
  
Michael tried to maintain his courage, tried to remind himself that the biggest gift he could give to her was distance. All of it failed him as her eyes fluttered open and found his.  
  
Fighting his weaker self, he thought aloud, “If I ever did anything to you, Steffy, I’d—“  
  
“You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” Steffy released his hands, pleased he continued to caress her cheekbones, and pressed her body into his, setting her hands on his chest, “You would do anything to protect me. To keep me safe.”  
  
Searching her eyes for fear and finding none, Michael tried to persuade it to appear, “Yes, and that’s why I have to stay away from you.”  
  
“No, you have to let me in. You have to trust me to keep you safe too.”   
  
Michael’s hands fell to her shoulders, too weak to push her away, “There’s too much wrong. And, now, my dad—you have no idea what’s going to happen.”  
  
“Whatever happens I’m going to be here.” She circled her arms around his waist, placing her cheek to his, “You have my word, Michael. I’m always gonna be right here.”  
  
For the first time in weeks, everything felt in place.   
  
He was exhausted and defenseless as she melted against him. His arms wrapped around her with a mind of their own as he buried his face against her neck.  
  
Selfish or not, Michael couldn’t find the strength to let her go again. Instead, he held on for dear life and whispered with hot breath against her skin, “I’m so sorry for what happened. I’m sorry.”


	10. Christmas Traffic

**Christmas Traffic**  
  
“Is there a reason you had to have a real tree?”   
  
Steffy couldn’t help but chuckle at his grunting as he maneuvered the over sized tree into her home. Handing a tip to the delivery guy, she shut the door and followed Michael towards the corner, “You’re the one who insisted on setting it up. We could’ve easily gotten the tree guy to set it up.”  
  
“Do you always have to be so welcoming to strangers in your home?”  
  
“Do you always have fear them?” She perched herself on the sofa, setting her hands on the sofa’s back and settling her chin upon them.  
  
He mumbled and grunted under his breath, getting the tree in the stand by his third attempt. His skin was red by the time he turned to her, beads of sweat on his forehead.   
  
Approaching him with a mug in hand, she tried to conceal a smile, “I feel bad for offering you something hot.”  
  
He gave her a sarcastic smirk, taking a sip before signaling towards her fire place, “You could put that out.”  
  
“No way! This home is Christmas tradition right now. All clichés must be present and accounted for, okay?”   
  
Rolling his eyes, he fanned his long sleeve shirt against himself and blew a breath out, “Why did you wait until the week of Christmas to get a tree?”  
  
“I’ve been busy. Besides Christmas Eve isn’t ‘til tomorrow anyway, and you know your mom is going to dominate our holiday.”  
  
As she rambled, Michael took a seat beside her and recognized he was oddly comfortable with her mentioning everything as  _ **their**_  plans.  
  
_{Hang all the mistletoe_  
I’m gonna get to know you better  
This Christmas  
And as we trim the tree  
How much fun its gonna be together  
This Christmas}  
  
“I want the tree to last for us, you know? When all the family stuff is done, we should still be able to celebrate together.” She snuggled up to him, the flames of the fireplace dancing in her eyes, “Don’t you want that?”  
  
“Christmas, my birthday, it all kind of causes family nosiness we don’t need right now, Steffy.” She pushed her lower lip out and batted her eyelashes, prompting him to add, “But, of course, we should celebrate.”  
  
“Exactly.” She gave a firm nod, getting off the couch and venturing into the kitchen, “Speaking of which…” With a small brown box in her hands, Steffy returned to his side, “My grandma was feeling a little sad that I wouldn’t be going home for a visit.”  
  
_Because of me._  Michael hung his head, setting his mug on the coffee table.  
  
“It was inevitable with or without you. My dad was determined to single me out, so let’s not dwell on it, okay?”  
  
“…okay.” He turned his body to face hers, gesturing to the box, “What you got?”  
  
A thoughtful smile appeared on her lips as she revealed a silver ornament, “It’s Phoebe’s angel.”   
  
The announcement weighed heavily on her heart; in turn, Michael’s heart became heavier.   
  
Immediately, he placed his hand on her shoulder, massaging the muscle, “Steffy?”  
  
“It’s okay. It’s just—sometimes I forget I don’t have her anymore. I forget—she’s not just ignoring my phone call or something. She’s really gone. And when I remember,” She swallowed hard then released a deep breath, “I still see her lying there, and I’m wiping the blood off her forehead, asking myself why I let her go. Why didn’t I just make her go to the party with me?”  
  
“If your twin was anything like you, I don’t think you could’ve let her do anything.”  
  
“You could say that again.” She covered his hand with one of hers, returning her eyes to his, “I’m gonna be okay. Because I have you this year, and nothing’s going to bring me down.”  
  
_{The fireside is blazing bright_  
We’re caroling through the night  
And this Christmas, will be   
A very special Christmas, from me}  
  
Michael’s happiness returned the moment her mood shifted to upbeat once more.   
  
Heading over to the tree, she hung the ornament at a prominent spot towards the middle and allowed the silver to sparkle among the green background.  
  
He made his way to her, standing against her back and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, “It’s going to be a great Christmas for us, Steffy. If nothing else, my mom will make sure of it.”  
  
Steffy leaned into his kiss against her cheek, “I can only imagine what kind of crazy plans your mom has. I never thought anyone could be more over the top than my grandmother but, I swear, your mom’s got her beat.”  
  
“Well, I may have something to help you deal with the holidays.”  
  
She immediately escaped his arms, turning to face him with an excited grin, “Oooo, is it expensive?”  
  
The roll of his eyes only caused her smile to wide as he presented small white box.   
  
Steffy clapped in anticipation then presented her open hands with brightened eyes.  
  
_{Presents and cards are here_  
My world is filled with cheer and you  
This Christmas  
And as I look around  
Your eyes outshine the town, they do  
This Christmas}  
  
Setting the box in her hands, he let out a nervous laugh, “I figured you should get an early gift for agreeing to my family’s holiday chaos.”  
  
Her smile faded as she spotted the small circle set atop white paper, losing her enthusiasm and standing perplexed, “Um…what is it?  
  
Laughing immediately at her reaction, Michael went into immediate explanation, “It’s Saint Jude. I—I know you aren’t really religious or anything, but…faith means a lot in my family. And Jude is the patron saint of desperate cases.”  
  
She lifted the necklace into the air, examining it closely. Sitting beside the fireplace, Steffy’s eyes traced its features in the flame’s reflection, “Hmm…is that some kind of hint?”  
  
“It’s more about us. You know things were kind of a mess before you came into my life, and…I’m still not all the way there.” Sitting on the hardwood floor with her, he calmed all of his nerves with the devoted look in her eyes, “But I’m getting it together because of you. Because when everything was going wrong in our lives, we found each other.”  
  
Steffy bowed her head, trying to hide her tears, only to have his hand on her chin prevent her from escape.  
  
Michael’s voice softened to a whisper as his thumb stroked away her stray tears, “You make me feel like I’m not lost anymore.”   
  
Within seconds, her arms were around him while she spoke against shoulder, “You have no idea what this means to me, Michael. You really don’t.”  
  
Michael slid his hands around her slender waist then up the length of her back. Closing his eyes, he secured himself in the raspberry scent of her hair and the warmth she generated.   
  
It was his time with her, spent just like this, which kept him grounded. Rather than losing it when his father fled the counter, he ran to her. Ignoring the urge to get into the family business as his uncle stood alone, he maintained happiness in the mundane routine of his hard work. When everything seemed to suffocate him, he stopped and counted to ten like his mother suggested – the whole while holding Steffy’s hand.  
  
_{The fireside is blazing bright_  
And we’re caroling through the night  
And this Christmas, will be  
A very special Christmas, from me}  
  
Her lips on his brought him out of reflective state and settled him firmly in the present.   
  
“Wait.” Michael was reluctant but clear in his protest, pulling away from her and reaching into his back pocket. Revealing the item he had hidden, he savored the sound of her laugh as she spotted the object and threw her head back, “Cheesy, right?”  
  
“Yes, but the absolute perfect kind.” Steffy took the mistletoe from his palm and held it over their heads, “Let’s keep with tradition, Blondie.”  
  
Planting his hands on the side of her face, he chuckled his way into a clumsy kiss and enjoyed every second of it.   
  
__**[Song Credit: "This Christmas" - Chris Brown](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlW5nQykhmI)**


	11. Arrival

**Arrival**  
  
“Just give it to me.”  
  
“Wait a second, isn’t this supposed to be something I offer and not something you demand?”  
  
“Would you just fork it over? It’s not like I’m going to rob the place!”  
  
Michael wiped excessive grease from his hands, tossing the towel to the floor, then proceeded to dig into his jean pocket. Wrinkling a brow at her straight face toward him, he maneuvered the key off of his its ring and placed it in the center of her palm, “Do I get to know why I’m giving you free access to my apartment?”  
  
“Nope.” Clamping her hand shut around the key, she leaned forward and placed a ‘shut up’ kiss upon his dry lips, “See ya later, birthday boy.”  
  
_{I never thought I'd get here; I was so far away_  
I didn't believe in love, thought it was just a game  
People played  
Everything changed when I met you  
I touched your hand, you took my heart  
And you led me to a better place, just the two of us  
In the dark...  
  
This is my idea of heaven, lying here with you  
This is my idea of heaven, nothing else, I'd rather do}  
  
He followed her with his eyes, thankful for the smile she had tossed over her shoulder before disappearing out of eyesight. While he would be more than happy to forget what this day was, his lips formed a grin at the thought of Steffy making it unforgettable.  
  
~*~  
  
The second his foot stepped into his apartment, he found her frantic in the kitchen, “You better not be burning my place down now.”  
  
Her eyes shot to his, jaw agape, “What are you doing here?”  
  
“I live here.”  
  
“You know what I mean! You usually don’t get off until…” Panic flickered in her eyes, causing her to drop whatever was in her hands and rush towards him, “you have to hide!”  
  
“What? Steffy, I’m not going to hide in my own home!”  
  
“Oh, yes, you are!” Grabbing his hand, she lugged him towards his bedroom and continued to ramble, “I’m not getting chewed out by anybody because you decided to be impatient.”  
  
Michael played along, allowing her to toss him to the bed, and exaggerated her playful shove with a heavy drop onto his mattress, “Can I know why I’m hiding?”  
  
She settled her hands on the curve of her hips, her skin glowing in the afternoon light filtering through his curtains, “You honestly believe your request for no party would be granted by anyone? Your mom and me weren’t having it.”  
  
“You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you?”  
  
“Not a chance.”  
  
He sat up completely and reached out to her, his hands landing on hers. Tugging her towards him, Michael’s eyes gazed up into hers, “You know I wanted to spend my time with you, right?”  
  
“Now, you get me and your family.”   
  
“Great.”  
  
“Now, I’m going to tell your mom you came home and took a nap or something. So stay quiet.”  
  
~*~  
  
The ‘party’ had been surprisingly low key considering both his mother and Steffy had a hand in it. A single banner reading ‘Happy Birthday,’ dorky hats for his siblings, and blue colored plates for the massive amounts of food.  
  
It felt more like a family dinner than a fiasco as his eyes sailed around the room.   
  
Carly had not sat once since showing up, continuing to take snap shots of everything; the whole while Jason insisted she just sit.   
  
Morgan’s loud groan filled the air as their younger sister stuck her finger in his cake, finding her own way to get a second piece.  
  
Kristina and Molly went on nonstop about some drama they were watching on television, hinting some ordinary bond between two sisters who longed for some epic romance.  
  
_{I never thought you'd get here, why'd you make me wait?_  
And when I looked into your eyes, I recognized you were  
My fate  
I've been living in a lonely shell, with no windows  
To the world  
How in God's name did you find, the lone star’s  
Loneliest girl...}  
  
His ears could only take their bickering for so long. His tongue was itching to tell them those ‘grand loves’ did not exist. It wasn’t microwave popcorn.   
  
It took time. It meant sometimes fighting more than you laughed or kissed. It meant you made a choice to trust someone who could let you down. It meant you had to set yourself up for possible failure. It meant you realized someone was worth the risk of getting hurt again.  
  
Before he could express this, Michael was tamed by the touch of her hands on his shoulder blades. He turned his attention to her, floating in the ocean of her eyes and accepting her silent ‘leave them alone’ warning.  
  
As she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggled close to his side, Michael gave a small nod.  
  
He was home.  
  
~*~  
  
“Admit it, you had fun.”  
  
The crowd had left them alone in his apartment; he followed her with a trash bag as she loaded it with debris from their gathering.  
  
“It was good.” Michael complied, watching as she carefully picked up cake from the carpet, “My little sister has no concept of cleanliness.”  
  
“Right, like I didn’t have some cleaning to do when I got here. You know you are truly the stereotype of a bachelor.” Steffy wiped her hands free of junk over the open bag before he tied it closed, “Do you live off pizza and soda when we don’t go out somewhere?”  
  
“Why not?” A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he teased, “It’s not like you can cook.”   
  
“You…” She simmered, looking around the kitchen for something to hit him with, “you…”  
  
Michael set the bag against the counter, cutting her off at the pass – her fingertip catching only a hint of icing before he caught her.  
  
“Jerk.”   
  
Her statement was capitalized with the sugar white topping on his nose; however, his arms prevented her from any escape as he nuzzled her neck.  
  
Steffy squeal’s turned into giggle as she felt the icing against her skin, trying in vain to wiggle out of his hold.  
  
He ended their playful struggle by placing a soft kiss to same area, memorizing the sound of her low moan.   
  
_{This is my idea of heaven, lying here with you_  
This is my idea of heaven, nothing else, I'd rather do  
  
To feel your heart, beating  
To feel our lips, meeting  
This is my idea of heaven}  
  
Loosening his hold around her, he watched as she wrinkled her nose at the feeling – wiping the icing away with both of her hands.  
  
“…I love you.”  
  
The words had run out of his mouth, a direct command from his heart who refused to verify the information with his brain. They had nearly robbed him of all courage and breath upon their departure, still anticipating his letdown.  
  
“…I know.” Steffy braved a smile, wiping away the tears as they tumbled out of her eyes, “I love you, too, Michael.”   
  
He frowned at the sight of her tears, helping her rid her skin of their presence, “Why are you crying?”  
  
“Because any—any second you’re going to say like a sister or something way worse and that’s gonna crush me.” She hung her head with a bitter laugh, fidgeting with the icing clumping in her palm, “Every time I want it to mean something, it doesn’t. And it’s easier to be  _in_   **love**  with someone when they don’t reject you, no matter how sweet they may be.”  
  
“Steffy…”  
  
“No, you know, let’s just go back. Let’s pretend we didn’t say anything, so it can stay like this.” Her voice cracked as she pleaded with him, “Please, let’s just stay this way.”  
  
_{In heaven, love is everywhere_  
There is no pain, there are no tears  
In heaven, love lasts forever,   
It doesn't disappear...}  
  
“Steffy, I can’t do that.” He embraced her tighter as her eyes revealed disappointment along with deep fear of loss, “Because I’m in love with you. I’m not going to pretend like I’m not.”  
  
Hope returned to her eyes, a smile appearing on her lips and betraying her tears, “You are?”  
  
“Yeah, I am.” Michael shared her relief, temporarily secure in their connection, “I didn’t want to start my new year without telling you.”  
  
She draped her arms around his neck, giving a slow sign of agreement, “I can live with that.”  
  
Obliging her as she brought him in for a kiss, Michael enjoyed the newness of her lips.   
  
It felt as though they had started on a new path, more willing to trust each other on the journey. He would trust her not to run at the sign of trouble; she would trust him to accept her flaws without judging her actions.  
  
For the first time that he could recall, he could honestly call this day his.  
  
_{This is my idea of heaven, lying here with you_  
This is my idea of heaven, nothing else, I'd rather do  
  
To feel your heart, beating  
To feel our lips, meeting  
This is my idea of heaven  
This is my idea of heaven, lying here with you}  
  
**_Song Credit: “My Idea of Heaven” – Leigh Nash_**


End file.
